


Colours  (Possession)

by MesmiraculouslyMirthful



Series: Goretober [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Canon character deaths, Goretober, Other, Possession, mild body horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 10:22:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12252426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MesmiraculouslyMirthful/pseuds/MesmiraculouslyMirthful
Summary: all the pretty colours are so very beautiful





	Colours  (Possession)

It started with toxic green, when he was still young and weak and foolish, desperate for survival and then addicted to the oblivion that green brought as the colour coated his throat. For sweeps he slept in it, coated himself inside and out with it. Sgrub quickly depleted his supply but his planet was full of bright colors and tents and miracles.

The meteor was grey, the only colors the clothing he and his hatefriends wore. He slept in his horn pile, and when opportunity came up, spoke to the strange alien tickets they had discovered.

Red text, blasphemy in candy hue, and then anger and resentment. And finally acceptance, as ill desired as it was. He wandered the corridors of the meteor lab, his hands shaking and his eyes unseeing through the blur of his own tears. If that had been the end of it, then that was all there would have been. The tearing of his gods away, the destruction of the only thing besides sopor that had given him comfort, would have been devastating but survivable on its own.

Then there was brown. Brown on the steel floor and brown on the lance that was dropped to the floor beside the body that used to belong to the only person that treated him truly kindly. Brown and the feel of a body gone cold, and no way to rejoin spirit and flesh together again.

He wandered weeping through the gloom.

But there was lime green again, laying in the coridor, not slime but a puppet in a sopor bright suit and...

Blue. A sharp pale blue, as cold and unforgiving as ice. The blue was so bright that it almost glowed and for all its sharpness it granted him security, offered him friendship. He cradled it in his arms, pale blue and green, and it whispered to him of his gods. It was comforting, until it was not, until it was whispering death and carnage into his very soul (kill them, kill them all). When the whispers turn towards violence and blasphemy he tried to throw the puppet away but it’s strings had already twisted and twinned into his soul and every time he tried to get rid of the thing it came back, it's hold a little stronger.

Gamzee Makara screamed, and screamed, but his cries did not escape his lips. His mind was a hallway filled with shattered funhouse mirrors, the deepest darkest possibility of his self reflected back at him in a fractured kaleidoscope of colour. 

He could hear Equius gasp for breath,could feel his hands tighten the string but could not stop, [No MoThErFuCkEr] could not stop. Blue dripped to the floor from where the makeshift garrote had bitten deep into flesh (you're serving your gods) and then the world exploded in a violent burst of olive green with the sharp sound of a wrist breaking, bone snapped clean in half [PlEaSe No StOp] (she started it). He grabbed her claws, dragged them across his face, laughing [HeLp]. 

There was brown on his cheek and green splashed on his front and blue on his shoes (all the pretty colours are so very beautiful) but that wasn't enough [NoT KaRbRo NoT mY hAtEfRiEnDs] when there were so many more miracle colours left. His eyes flashed briefly in the blackness, his arms wrapped around Lil Cal.


End file.
